


So Many Faces in the World, but I Want Yours

by SayQueso (TooGoodToBeBad)



Series: AU? Yeah, You! [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, It's just a phone call and they're both really bummed out, Long-Distance Relationship, Mentioned Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooGoodToBeBad/pseuds/SayQueso
Summary: “Are you busy right now?”Considerate as always, when it came to her. “Not really. It’s Saturday afternoon,” she replied. “Why are you calling?”A heavy and pregnant silence took over the other end. “I don’t know why,” he admitted.“Have you been drinking?” she frowned.“Just a little bit.”“Sylvain,” her lips straightened out into a tight line as she stood back up from the couch.“I don’t know what else to do,” he said softly. “It’s 11pm on a Saturday night and I’m all by myself in a condo that’s too big for me. And you’re not here.”Sylvain keeps calling. Ingrid keeps picking up.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: AU? Yeah, You! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979576
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	So Many Faces in the World, but I Want Yours

When her ringtone cut through the peaceful stillness of the apartment, Ingrid’s eyes widened and she nearly threw the paperback novel she was reading aside. She shot up from the couch and nearly dropped her phone on the floor when she grabbed it from the coffee table. 

It was Sylvain’s ringtone. That stupid recording of him going "Tada, it's me, Sylvain!" over and over.

The calls were getting more frequent now, each one more heartbreaking than the last. And Ingrid, apparently as much a glutton for punishment as a glutton for food, kept picking up. With trembling fingers, she brought the phone to her ear. “Sylvain?”

“What time is it there, Ingrid?” he asked from the other end. 

She spared a glance at the bright lights of the digital clock hanging on the wall, the digital clock surrounded by a hodgepodge of Polaroids and framed photos, all of them. “It’s 4:17.”

“Are you busy right now?”

Considerate as always, when it came to her. “Not really. It’s Saturday afternoon,” she replied. “Why are you calling?”

A heavy and pregnant silence took over the other end. “I don’t know why,” he admitted.

“Have you been drinking?” she frowned.

“Just a little bit.”

“Sylvain,” her lips straightened out into a tight line as she stood back up from the couch.

“I don’t know what else to do,” he said softly. “It’s 11pm on a Saturday night and I’m all by myself in a condo that’s too big for me. And you’re not here.”

The words died on her tongue, and the painful seeds of longing began to take root in her chest and constrict themselves around her heart. When she opened her mouth to speak, a strangled sob rushed past her lips.

He let out a resigned sigh. “It’s not your fault, I know. None of this is,” he paused again. “But I think I remember why I’m calling now.”

“Why?”

The quiver in his voice was unmistakable now. “I heard our song on the radio - the one we would sing all the time when Annette was hosting karaoke night. It reminded me of you. I’ve been avoiding it for so long, and then the radio plays it on my drive back. And I guess I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice again.”

She choked back another sob as she paced circles around the apartment while hopelessly trying to fight back the tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. 

“You still there?” he asked.

“Still here,” she managed to say with a steady voice. 

A low sigh could be heard on the other end. “That’s good,” he mumbled, his voice hazy and heavy, even from the other end of the line. “This condo is so lonely without you. I wish you were here with me.”

“I know, Sylvain. I know.”

“It’s so beautiful here in Morfis. And I fucking hate it. And I hate Dimitri for sending me here. I don’t know why he sent me to be a part of this division. It’s not like Morfis needs another investment bank-”

“Sylvain, you know why Dimitri threw your name in the hat. It’s because you’re really good at your job,” she cracked a tiny smile despite herself, despite the tears welling in her eyes. “You’re one of their best.”

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t.”

A light and melancholic giggle escaped her, and she could already hear the smile in his voice. “It’s nice to hear you laugh, you know that?” he chuckled.

“It’s nice to hear you make me laugh,” she replied as she let her eyes wander back to the photos on the wall, not that she needed a reminder of what she was missing. There were too many photos on the wall, but they weren’t nearly enough to stop the aching that ate away at her heart. A photo of her and Sylvain in matching costumes at Mercedes' Halloween party. Of her, Sylvain, Felix, and Dimitri outside some dingy bar with drunken grins plastered on all their faces. Of the four of them with Annette and Mercedes at the opening of Dedue and Ashe’s restaurant. 

The candid photos were the worst. There was one that Sylvain took while she was in the middle of eating chicken wings; she absolutely hated it but he kept it up on the wall anyway. She hadn’t taken it down yet.

Or that one shot where she’d given him a surprise kiss on the cheek and he was wearing the goofiest and stupidest expression ever because he couldn’t believe his luck. 

She turned away before she started bawling on the apartment floor.

“There are so many people here, Ingrid. So many faces. But none of them are yours,” his voice was so soft now.

“It’s only for a few more months,” she plopped back down on the couch and hugged a cushion to her chest. It was a poor substitute for the warmth and familiarity of his embrace.

“A few more months,” he repeated, almost more to himself than to her. “I think I better go now.”

“Of course, Sylvain. Take care of yourself.”

“Wait,” his voice suddenly sounded more urgent. “Before you go. Your eyes are green, right?”

“Yep,” she nodded and wiped away at the lone tear streaming down her face. “They’re still green.”

“Okay, thanks,” he paused again and clicked his tongue before speaking again. “Thanks for picking up, Ingrid.”

“I always will, Sylvain.”

“Alright. Love you, miss you. Goodnight.”

He hung up before she could say anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked this! Feedback and comments are appreciated.
> 
> I wasn't expecting to get this done so quickly, but the idea struck and I had too much free time, so here we are. I will write something nice and fluffy for these two soon, because I think I beat up on Sylvain too much. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
